


Everywhere & Anywhere

by OhThatsViolet



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Affection, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhThatsViolet/pseuds/OhThatsViolet
Summary: Octavio is on a trip and missing the comfort of his partner's touch. To make himself feel better, he reminisces on the times Elliott had innocently touched him - everywhere and anywhere.
Relationships: Mirage | Elliott Witt/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Everywhere & Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter & Tumblr: ohthatsviolet

Physical touch wasn't something Octavio had ever cared much about. He'd gotten the occasional hug from a particularly nice nanny or his father after one too many gins growing up, but it was a rare occurrence. It hadn't bothered him too much. He couldn't really miss what he never really had. As he got older, his physical contact with others was limited to casual hookups or the occasions where Ajay would have to patch him up after he'd done something she considered stupid. All of that seemed to change when he met Elliott. It took him some time to get used to all of the affection the trickster had to offer him, when they first started dating. If Octavio was honest, it was a little overwhelming at first, but after being with him for so long he doesn't know how he ever got through his days without Elliott's touch. 

If he was ever in need of a hug from his boyfriend, it was now. He was off planet, on a short tour of different sponsor events and meet and greets. Several people had touched him today; they'd shook his hands, hugged him, squeezed him, patted him on the back and some had even overstepped their boundaries and groped him as they pleased. He could feel the tiredness creeping into his bones as he flopped himself onto his hotel bed with a sigh. His nose felt itchy and he moved his hand to scratch it, swearing silently to himself. He felt like he was getting sick. This was the last thing he needed. He thought about his partner and what he might be doing right now. Was he thinking about him? Was he missing him? Octavio toyed with the drawstrings on his Octane branded hoodie and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to drift and wander aimlessly. He tried to remember all of the times Elliott's touch had made him feel better, safe and loved, but there were simply too many to count. So, he tried to remember his favourites; times when the trickster had touched him everywhere and anywhere. It was silly. He knew he'd be home soon and he could be back in his lover's embrace again. But right now, he'd give anything to go back and relive some of those times. The simple times. The times he hadn't really paid much attention to then, but was left yearning for now. He thought of how and when he'd touched him so innocently, and yet it had left such a lasting impact. 

* * *

**Head**

It wasn't the smartest idea he'd ever had, though many would argue Octavio rarely had smart ideas. But he was home alone, and in his opinion anything was better than being bored. He had wanted to re-dye his hair for a while now, having grown tired of the green so much that it had faded horribly. It wasn't his favourite activity in the world and he'd sometimes ask Elliott for his assistance, so he could play games on his phone while the trickster cut and coloured his hair for him; one of the perks of having a boyfriend whose brother was a barber. Elliott was at a sponsorship meeting right now, so he'd have to take care of his locks himself. He'd settled on red, thinking it would be a nice change and a way to surprise Elliott. He managed to get the hair colouring in easily enough, but he hadn't really considered how he would wash it out without ruining everything with this new vibrant shade. He assured himself it would be fine and hopped in the shower, where he quickly learned that things were not, in fact, fine. He doesn’t remember using this brand of dye before but he hadn’t expected it to stain everything this bad. His hands were bright red and the water trails trickling down his body were leaving light pink paths in their wake.   
“Oh, mierda. No bueno.”   
A few moments passed, and he stood there aimlessly considering his options. He knows now that he should have worn gloves, but where does he go from here? Should he stop and wash his hands off, or keep going?   
“Babe? I’m home! You here?”  
“Elliott?!”  
Thank goodness, he was saved.   
“I’m in the bathroom! I need help!”   
Octavio turned the faucet off just in time to hear his partner’s hurried steps making their way across the apartment and the opening of the bathroom door.   
“Hey, everything okay? What’s up? I...Oh my God!” the trickster cut himself off by emitting a surprised yelp.   
It wasn’t completely unusual for him to arrive home to find Octavio engaged in some questionable activity, but standing nude in their bathroom with his skin tainted red was a push too far for the trickster today.   
“What...Who did this to you?! What is that?!”  
“Dye.”  
“Die?!”  
“No, no,” Octavio corrected himself, turning his palms over. "Hair dye.”  
“Fuck,” Elliott breathed, placing a hand over his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”  
After Elliott had taken a moment to compose himself, and Octavio had explained his situation and covered himself up, he was instructed to try and clean himself up while Elliott retrieved a large jug from the kitchen, and some hair colouring gloves. He was told to lean over the bath, while the trickster collected some water and slowly began to pour it over his head. It was easy to relax into the feeling of his partner's fingers scratching over his scalp, despite the fiasco they'd just found themselves in. Elliott was gentle but deliberate with his touches, combing his fingers thoroughly through his hair. It felt nice, even with the gloves he was wearing, especially when his fingers trailed to just above the nape of his neck, which made his scalp tingle. Once the water began to run somewhat clear, and Elliott was satisfied he'd done an adequate job, he situated the runner on the side of the bath, beginning to gently towel his hair off. Wordlessly, he tossed the used towel to the floor and reached for a nearby comb. Octavio's eyes drifted to the trickster's face, whose expression was calm but focused as he smoothed his damp hair out, keeping a gentle hold on the shaved side of his head while he worked on the longer hair on the top. A small grin found its way to his face, which didn't go unnoticed by his partner.   
"What?" Elliott asked, returning the smile as he directed his attention away from his task, meeting the speedster's eyes instead.   
"Nothing," Octavio replied, with a not-so-casual shrug. "So…? How do I look?"   
"Uhhh," the trickster began, taking a step back to oversee what his boyfriend had... _achieved_ in his absence. "Did you just...put the red in...over the green?"   
"Yup!"   
"I see."   
It wasn't...bad. It was just a...murky looking purple-brown colour; not exactly what Octavio had been aiming for.   
"Well...y'know. It's definitely something different," Elliott eventually said, running his fingers through his lover's new hairdo one last time, making his eyelashes flutter. "Maybe next time, don't play hairdresser without me, eh?" 

**Face**

"Can I be honest, babe? I'm a little nervous about this."   
Octavio looked up from his phone from his spot on the bed, towards his partner who was fixing his hair in the bedroom mirror.   
"Nervous?" he asked. "Why? Because I finally get to pick the restaurant for once?"   
"No, no it's not that," Elliott replied, attempting to adjust a specific curl into place. "It's just...I don't wanna make a fool of myself. What if I can't read the menu?"   
"It'll probably be in English," the runner replied, with a small amused smile. "But if it's in Spanish, I can translate. Actually, now I kinda hope I have to. I know you _love_ it when I do that."   
Elliott turned to face him, meeting his boyfriend's wiggling eyebrows with a look of confusion.   
"But...you said this place was Mexican."   
"Yeah?"   
"You don't speak Mexican."   
It was Octavio's turn to look confused now.   
"What?"   
"What?"   
The corner of his lip began to tug into a smile.   
"Are you for real right now, amor?"   
"I...yeah?"   
The runner emitted a loud snort at that, clutching his stomach as he broke down into a fit of animated laughter. Elliott stepped closer to him, still in the dark as ever. He wasn't sure what his boyfriend was laughing at, but whatever it was, it must have been hilarious because the speckles of tears were beginning to form in the corners of his hazel eyes.   
"What?" he asked, letting out a small laugh of his own. "What's so funny?"   
"You," Octavio wheezed, causing the trickster to shake his head and laugh again.   
It was hard not to laugh with Octavio, despite not realising what he'd said to make the younger Legend so amused. He giggled along with him, lightly cupping his freckled face and brushing away the tears that had begun to spill from his eyes.   
"I still don't know what you're laughing at."   
Octavio took a few breaths in an attempt to calm himself, but he couldn't keep the smile off his scarred lips while he continued to giggle weakly.   
"I just think you're funny, Elliott."   
The trickster gave his cheeks a light squeeze, forcing his lips into a pucker, before brushing his cheek with his fingers.   
"I think you're a little shit."   
Octavio stuck his tongue out playfully, flopping himself back onto the bed, still trying to keep his giggles under control.   
"That's why you love me, mi amor." 

**Neck**

Missing out on a sponsor wasn't that big of a deal. It happened to every Legend at some point in their career. It rarely happened to Octane. Usually sponsors were tripping over each other to have the high speed daredevil represent them. He wasn't really used to being told "no" especially if it was for something he really wanted. He'd actually reached out to this particular brand himself, and was excited to work with them until they decided they didn't want to return the sentiment. It had thrown his whole game off that day, which just added to the aching feeling in his chest. He'd slinked away to Elliott's room on the dropship as soon as the winners had been announced, and wrapped himself in one of the trickster's throw blankets as he made himself comfortable for the flight home. He wasn't upset to the point he was going to cry about it, but he was definitely prepared to sulk for the entire journey. Elliott had followed him after some quick chats with his fellow competitors and Octavio filled him in on the situation. The trickster nodded and patted his thigh sympathetically while he listened. He too, had found himself in similar situations in the past and it sucked but it wasn't the end of the world. The games were extremely popular and there was always another sponsorship on the horizon. Still, he could see that his partner was visibly upset about the situation and offered whatever words of encouragement he could, until the runner claimed he had a headache and rolled over onto his side. Now that their own conversation had fallen silent, the one happening between some of the other Legends next door, was more noticeable. Octavio groaned into his pillow at the sound of thunderous laughter and muttered something in Spanish to himself, before addressing his partner.   
“You should go hang out with them. They sound like they’re having a good time.”   
The trickster shrugged dismissively, and situated himself behind him on the bed; spooning style.   
“Hey, Mr Grumpy Pants,” he said quietly, burying his face into the side of his lover’s neck. “You think I’m gonna have any fun without you?”  
“Yeah. I’m in a shit mood.”  
“Then I’m definitely not gonna leave you!”  
Octavio let out a small puff of air, when he felt the tip of his sweetheart’s nose nuzzle against his skin, promptly followed by the softness of his beard, tickling him.   
“Ell...that tickles.”  
“Oh?” the trickster questioned, a small hint of mischief to his voice. “Does it really?”   
Octavio couldn’t stop the corner of his lip from curling, as Elliott continued to nuzzle his neck until he let out a small laugh.   
“Ah, there’s that smile I love so much,” he announced somewhat victoriously, prompting the runner to nudge him with his elbow lightly. “You still want me to go hang out with the others?”  
“No,” Octavio said, with a small shake of his head. “I...never really did.”  
“Good!” the trickster replied, burying his face into the crook of his neck once again. “Because I wasn’t planning on leaving.” 

**Chest**

It was pretty often to have days on Solace that were just unbearably hot. Luckily for Octavio, there was no game today and he and Elliott had decided to ignore the world and draw the curtains closed, in a futile attempt to escape the sun's rays. They'd shared a tub of ice-cream while watching a new edition to Octavio's ever growing film collection, and despite it only being late afternoon Elliott had, in typical Elliott fashion, fallen asleep before the movie had ended. He was definitely one of the worst people the speedster had ever met to watch a movie with but he couldn't bring himself to ever be mad about it. Especially now, as he looked down at the snoozing mop of frizzy curls resting against his bare chest. It was a little uncomfortable, and albeit sticky, but it was nice. The plot of the film had taken an odd turn, but that was alright - he'd much rather keep his eyes on Elliott anyway. He looked so peaceful, despite how hot the room was. His expression was blank and he seemed completely unbothered by the occasional stream of air from the nearby fan that would hit him in the face and tousel his hair as it passed by. The only thing that interrupted this scene of tranquility was the occasional high pitched squeak from the trickster which Octavio found quite amusing. He had the hiccups; presumably from all the ice-cream they'd eaten. Knowing that now may be an inappropriate time to laugh at his lover's expense, only made it more difficult for the runner to keep his cool. Each time Elliott would hiccup, Octavio's chest would quiver uncontrollably as he tried to hold in his laughter. He inevitably ended up disturbing the trickster's slumber. Elliott let out a quiet groan as he awoke, moving his head around so Octavio could feel the soft brush of his well maintained beard against his chest. He looked up at the speedster with droopy eyes, as if to give him a silent complaint.  
"Sorry, amor. I didn't mean to wake you."   
"It's okay," Elliott replied, stifling a yawn. "How did the movie end?"   
"Uhhh…Well...".   
Octavio wasn't sure what the answer to that question was, and it seemed a little weird to admit that he'd stopped paying attention to it in favour of watching the trickster sleep instead. His eyes drifted to his partner's fingers which were beginning to brush lightly over his pec, tracing small circles over his heart, relaxing him.   
"You okay, babe?"   
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"   
"I just realised I'm probably crushing you," Elliott suddenly laughed, with a hint of self-consciousness. "And it's so hot. Sorry, I'll…".   
Octavio let out a small whine in protest when Elliott began to shift away, which only made the stickiness of where their bodies had been connected more obvious. He took a hold of the trickster's wrist and pulled him back towards him.  
"I don't care about the heat. The fan's on. Stay," he told him, taking the trickster's hand and placing it back over his heart. "Keep doing that." 

**Arms**

Octavio hadn't realised how late it had gotten. Time was one of the few things that often escaped him, especially when he got into the groove of editing a video. Hours could pass and he wouldn't even notice, which is exactly what had happened this night. Elliott had retired to bed when he'd gotten in from work, around two in the morning, and had asked the runner to join him. Octavio told him he would soon, but that was almost three hours ago. He hadn't even heard the sound of their bedroom door open again, and jumped in his seat when a firm hand was placed on his shoulder. The runner slowly slid his headphones off his head and looked guiltily up at his partner who was now standing behind him.   
"Come to bed, Tav," he said, voice still low and husky from sleep, as he draped his arms over his shoulders and rested his chin against his hair. "It's almost dawn. What are you doing?"   
"Editing," Octavio replied, idly toying with his mouse.   
"You need to sleep."   
"I'm not tired yet."   
The trickster let out a defeated sigh, bringing his hands to rub against the younger legend's upper arms, making him feel the goosebumps that had sprung up there for the first time. Octavio wasn't sure if it was in reaction to the heating having turned off a couple of hours ago or having Elliott's warm fingers on him; it very well could have been both.   
"Please?" Elliott hummed against his cheek, wrapping his arms around him and giving him a small squeeze. "I sleep so much better when you're there."   
Octavio knew he was fighting a losing battle by protesting, but he supposed there were definitely worse places in the Outlands to be than laying on the opposite pillow to Elliott Witt. And still, he couldn't bring himself to even entertain the idea of trying to sleep. He just wasn't tired. He didn't feel relaxed. His mind still felt wound up after watching all of those awesome plays from the games he'd been editing.   
"Hey, Elliott?" he whispered, turning his head to try and make out his boyfriend's silhouette in the dark. "Do you think I should try and get my hands on the Peacekeeper more? I know the R-99 is kinda my _brand_ but-."   
"Go to sleep, babe," the trickster groaned in response. "I don't wanna talk about guns right now."   
"But I told you I'm not tired!"   
"Come here, then."   
The blanket was lifted for him to shuffle towards his partner who held his arms open for him, allowing the runner to snake between them. He sighed contentedly, when Elliott lazily began to brush his thumb along his bicep and used his spare hand to massage his fingers along his tattoo. He couldn't make out the lettering exactly in the dark, but he'd done this so many times for the speedster by now, the pattern was engraved in his memory.   
"I think you should stick to what you know best," he said quietly.   
"Huh?"   
"For the gun thing. You were asking about the Peacekeeper."   
"Oh," Octavio replied, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, as a careful finger traced an S shape along his arm.   
"I always liked using the Wingman," Elliott continued, keeping his voice quiet. "You wanna know why?"   
"Why?"   
"Because it was one of the first guns I learned how to shoot. Not usually the best thing for a beginner but...I never found other pistols...as satisfying."   
"Mmm."   
The trickster moved his fingers further along the other man's arm, slowly beginning to create a U shape.   
"My Wingman Elite is one of my most prized possessions. I used to keep it in the bar but...not anymore. I remember Pathfinder saw it once. He used to keep coming by before I joined the games. Thought we were friends or something. I told him it was my favourite. When we did eventually end up being put on a squad together I was a little annoyed. I mean he's so...happy. Doesn't really help with the nerves. Anyways, the game was going horribly. We were barely scraping our way out of fights. It was tough. I'm patching myself up when I see him searching through the bag of someone we took out, and he's got that smiley face on him. He runs over to me and says, "Guess what friend? I found your favourite thing!". And he hands me a Wingman. I was a bit weirded out that he remembered but...we won that game. And it wasn't too long after that, they started calling me a Legend."   
He finished off his story by completing the A, only now noticing his lover was slumped heavily against him; on the verge of sleep. He laughed quietly to himself, as the runner's eyes began to droop closed. The same trick seemed to work on him every time.  
"Stick to what you know, right?" he whispered, before placing a kiss to the side of the runner's head, letting his own eyes fall closed again. 

**Back**

Octavio stretched his arms over his head, perching himself on the edge of the mattress after having a rejuvenating night's sleep. He could just about make out what sort of morning it was through the small crack in the curtains; it seemed like the sun hadn't fully risen just yet. The perfect time for a morning run. He reached down to collect one of his prosthetics and began attaching it, feeling the weight on the other side of the bed shift behind him.   
"You tryna sneak away from me?"   
Octavio finished getting his leg in place, before turning to look over his shoulder at his partner.   
"Never."   
"Then where are you going?"   
"I was gonna get my run done before it gets too hot," the speedster replied, bending down to retrieve his other leg.   
"No, don't go," Elliott whined in protest, shuffling himself across the bed so he could sit behind his love. "It's our day off, and I haven't gotten my morning cuddles yet."   
"You could always come with me," the runner quipped, knowing exactly what his partner's response would be.   
"Ew, no. I'm not working out on a Saturday."   
Octavio laughed quietly at that, moving his attention back to his leg which didn't go unnoticed by the trickster.   
"Come on. Stay with me," he continued. "Just for a little bit. It's too early to go out."   
"You know, amor. If you let me go now, you can sleep a little more and you'll be more rested when I get back. You know how much a good run gets my... _adrenaline_ pumping."   
"You're lucky you're pretty," Elliott replied, his tone resting somewhere between a joke and a scold.   
The trickster turned his attention to the many freckles and birthmarks, dotted across the runner's back while he continued tightening the attachments for his legs, moving at a somewhat slower pace now.   
"Your skin is so beautiful," he hummed, caressing the runner's back in a way that made him snort.   
"You give the most random compliments, Elliott."   
"It's true," Elliott insisted. "I wish I looked like you."   
He had to be joking.  
"Haga silencio."   
"Look, at all these pretty things," he continued, tracing his index finger between each marking. "So, cute."   
He started with the one on the side of his neck, moving to the one on his shoulder and the other hidden in the valley between his shoulder blades. He continued his journey downwards, finding another in the middle of his spine and two more near his lower back.   
"I love you, Tav. I could look at you all day."  
Octavio sighed contentedly, feeling himself melt under his partner's touch. Maybe Elliott had a point. It was still pretty early and suddenly going out and jogging around the streets of Solace City, seemed a lot less tempting now. 

**Hand**

Sometimes Octavio liked to sit away from everyone else on the dropship when he could manage it. Today was one of those times. He'd perched himself on a large supply crate in a dark corner, leaving his legs to dangle and swing freely, occasionally clicking against the metal crate. He didn't always want to socialise with the others. It wasn't because he had a low social battery, but sometimes he just didn't care about what they had to say. Ajay called him selfish for it, and told him he should listen more and he might learn something. He'd gotten this far with listening to as few people as possible. Why stop now?   
"Am I interrupting something?"   
The runner glanced up, focusing his goggles on his boyfriend who he hadn't heard approach. He shifted to the side slightly and patted the spot next to him in a silent invitation, which the trickster gladly took. Elliott was one of the few people he didn't mind listening to.   
"So, how you feeling?"   
"Good," Octavio replied, nodding to himself. "I have a good feeling about today. Hopefully, I'll get some sweet footage."   
Elliott remained quiet for a few moments, absentmindedly toying with the one of the straps of his holo-gear.   
"We're not on the same squad this time," he eventually said, keeping his voice low.   
"Yeah, I noticed," the speedster replied, his tone also hushed. "Sucks."   
It was foolish for them to hope they'd be chosen to team up every time; they knew this. Knowing they might meet in the field on opposing sides was a painful thought, and was a situation they tried to avoid if they could, but it was something they had little control over. Elliott slid his hand into his, intertwining their fingers. It made Octavio feel a little better about their situation, despite being able to feel the clamminess of his lover's fingers. He wasn't able to touch his palm through the fabric of their gloves, but he knew it would feel the same; he was nervous.   
"I need to start doing better," he said. "Or...worse. I don't know. Just...whatever will make them keep putting us together."   
"Don't talk like that," Octavio shot back, a little more harshly than he intended. "They do whatever they want. We'll be fine. Always are."  
The trickster gave his hand an appreciative squeeze, letting their joined hands fall into his lap. His free hand came to rest over them, giving them a few reassuring pats.   
"Y-yeah. You're right. We'll be okay."   
Octavio squeezed back, prompting the trickster to squeeze a little harder, until a voice across the ship called his name.   
"Oh, uh...sounds like Wraith. She probably wants to talk tactics and stuff."  
"Sounds boring," the runner quipped, causing his partner to laugh as he hopped down from the crate.   
"It is. Why do you think I'd rather be paired with you?"   
"Hey, you got this. Don't let her push you around."   
He held his hand up as an invitation for a high-five, which the trickster obliged. As soon as their palms connected, Elliott laced his fingers through Octavio's one last time before stepping away, shooting him some playful finger guns, getting into Mirage mode. Octavio watched him leave, feeling the residue of his lover's insecurities on his fingers. Not being together sucked, but it was only for a couple of hours and then they'd be home safe and with each other again. They both had to believe that.

**Legs**

Octavio huffed to himself on the couch, trying his best to get comfortable. His legs were really painful right now, where even the slightest stretch in the wrong direction would make him want to swear profusely. He didn't want to admit it was his own doing. Admitting that meant admitting he'd pushed himself too hard in the arena, and to him, that meant admitting defeat. Octane was a force that couldn't be stopped, which usually meant Octavio was left suffering. His prosthetics had been discarded with a loud clatter to their living room floor as soon as they'd gotten home, and he was forced to just lay here and wait out the pain that was currently claiming his muscles as its new home.   
"Did those pills kick in yet?" Elliott asked, as he made his way into the living room with a tall glass of water in hand.   
The runner shook his head somewhat pitifully, and took the glass that was offered to him.   
"You should drink all of that," the trickster continued, carefully setting himself down beside his partner. "Stay hydrated. It's good for the muscles...I think."   
Octavio sighed loudly, before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a long gulp. Elliott couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He hated seeing him in any kind of distress.   
"Hey, maybe I could give you a little massage, hmm?" he suggested, watching the speedster drain the contents of his glass. "It might help a little."   
"Okay," Octavio agreed. "But…try and be careful."   
"Of course."   
He looped his arms around Elliott's neck, who slid his hands under his thighs as gently as he could, lifting him into his arms bridal style. They made the short journey to their bedroom, where Elliott carefully set him on the bed before heading to the bathroom. He remembered buying a warming oil, on the recommendation of one of his patrons after they'd overheard him complaining about tight muscles; it would be perfect. Once he returned, he assisted the runner with removing his shorts and getting as comfortable as possible. He brushed his thumb along the base of Octavio's leg, which made him flinch and jerk away.   
"Sorry, sorry!" he apologised. "I'll go easier."   
Elliott took some of the oil in his palm, rubbing his hands together before applying it to his lover. He tried to keep his touches as gentle and smooth as possible, to not cause the runner any more discomfort. He worked with mostly his thumbs, creating small circles across Octavio's skin, taking extra care around the different scars and burn marks he'd collected over the years. Octavio allowed his eyes to fall closed, trusting the trickster to have complete control over the situation. Elliott's touches were too light and delicate to really get to the root of his aches, but they provided a sense of comfort that allowed him to relax slightly and take his mind off it a little.   
"Is this okay?" Elliott asked after a few moments had passed, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.   
"Yeah. It feels really nice," Octavio replied, keeping his eyes closed. "Gracias."   
"Hey, it's no problem. I got you," the trickster told him, taking the opportunity to apply some more oil. "Always." 

* * *

Octavio missed him. Especially now that he was lying in bed in his hotel room alone, struggling to sleep. He felt a bit silly, as he stared up at the ceiling. Once, being on his own wouldn't have bothered him and it was something he enjoyed. But here he was, alone, feeling sorry for himself, and longing for the touch of someone who was a few days' flight away. He sighed to himself, as he rubbed at his sniffling nose with the back of his hand, forcing himself to sit up and grab his phone off the bedside table before typing a quick text message.

_**Tav:** u there? _

_**Elliott:** Yup! Video call?_

_**Tav:** plz._

Within a few minutes, he was laying on his side with his partner's face on the pillow opposite him - it wasn't the same as being able to actually lie in bed together, but it was better than nothing.   
"You don't sound too good, babe," Elliott pointed out, a look of concern on his features.   
"I think I'm getting a cold," the runner replied, with a sniffle. "Damn con flu."   
"Aw, that sucks. Well, it's only another few days until you're able to come home, right?"   
"Do you miss me?" Octavio asked quietly, noticing the small smile that crept onto his partner's face.   
"Of course, I do. Do you miss me?"   
The runner shrugged sheepishly, averting his eyes.   
"Maybe a little."   
"Just a little?"   
"I...can't really sleep well on my own."   
Elliott shot him a sympathetic look, mixed with some understanding before piping up. He adjusted himself to lie on his side on his own bed, propping himself up with his elbow as he looked into the camera.   
"See? It's almost like I'm right there with you."   
Octavio couldn't help but snort at the remark.   
"It's not really the same, mi amor."   
"Not with that attitude," the trickster replied, pointing his index finger close to the screen. "Look. I can almost reach out and touch you."   
Octavio returned the gesture, until they achieved the illusion of touching fingertips, before falling back against his pillow with a small giggle, running a hand over his face.   
"We're so dumb."   
Elliott smiled warmly at him.   
"But it helps. I've definitely been to weirder sleepovers."   
"Isn't it only like...7pm there?"   
"Yeah," the trickster replied, with a nonchalant shrug. "But I can still stay here and talk until you fall asleep. Now, get this. You won't _believe_ the roast I got on Crypto the other day."   
Octavio pulled the blankets over himself, snuggling into their warmth, as he listened to his boyfriend ramble on about work and training and all of the things he wasn't really missing while he was away. 

They might not be able to physically be together, but the trickster had a talent for making him feel better and still managed to achieve that several planets apart. Elliott truly had touched every part of him; the standout being his heart. 


End file.
